I had the longest, most detailed dream last night (or this morning) about a trip to India. I won’t go into it all but some features:
(1) a bus trip from the place we were staying to some water-related attraction on a hill was harrowing, with the wheels of the bus at times moving along metal tracks that were only a few inches wide and on a vertical grade. At points, I was reaching out of the bus, holding on to metal rungs and pulling us up along to keep the bus from falling off the track. I recognised that we were in danger but I wasn’t much worried. It was more tedious than anything.
(2) I forgot my camera – left it at the place we were staying in India – and wondered when I realised this during the bus trip if I should take the next bus back to go get it, even though it would mean another combined 40 mins. of the harrowing bus trip to and fro. On the bus, I was regretting not having it, wanting to take some video of the journey, because the landscape was so different from anything I had ever seen. (Buses were cycling in and out of his attraction constantly, like sightseeing buses in NYC.)
(3) the place were were staying was great, with large tiled bathrooms, big bedrooms. It was sort of like a hacienda or an indoor/outdoor ranch house.
(4) my clothing was an important part of the whole thing. I knew I shouldn’t wear shorts in the streets of India, and I was wishing I had remembered to bring my skorts, which are more appropriate. As it was, I seemed to have a gigantic closet full of clothes (perhaps shared with some other travellers, maybe one of my sisters, a friend?). I ended up going out (for the bus ride) in some flouncy top and a long cotton skirt.
Earlier in the evening, we had watched the “Morocco” episode of AbFab, which I think led me in this direction …